One Less Regret
by Kariesue
Summary: If John had the opportunity to say goodbye to his Dad, would he take it?


_disclaimer: Don't own it, but I want to..._

_rating: K+ - I was well behaved on this one, do I get a piece of candy?_

_A/N : Not the sequel you were looking for, sorry. Just a little something my muse has been bugging me to do for a while. I finally listened. Do I get a piece of candy?_

_The mission that is mentioned is completely inconsequential to the story therefore I took no time to think anything through (other than watching the SG-1 Episode Moebius, which is quite hysterical)_

_Feedback: Yes, please! Feedback is like getting a piece of candy! And I do like candy, thanks!_

_**One Less Regret**_

by kariesue

.

"Good luck, Colonel, we'll check in when we've got eyes on the target. Take your time."

John Sheppard stepped out of the cloaked jumper and looked back at Major Lorne. "Thanks, Major, I'll keep my ears open. Let me know when we need to move."

Sheppard turned to face the house they had landed in front of and commented wryly, "This _could_ be a very short visit."

Teyla took a step closer, placed her hand on John's arm and gave him an encouraging smile. "You will be fine. We will keep you updated on the mission. You have many capable people and they are all aware of what our goal is. I believe _your_ goal is through that door," and she pointed to the large ornately carved piece of wood a few yards away.

John nodded and walked toward the door. He hesitated for a second but when he felt the air stir around him he knew the jumper had taken off and there was no place to go but forward. Although technically they had all gone backwards.

It had been more than a few months since Atlantis had landed back on Earth to protect it from the souped up hive ship and they were all itching to go back to the Pegasus Galaxy. But the IOA wasn't too keen on that happening. Their biggest excuse was a lack of power.

But just recently, with Daniel Jackson's help, they had discovered a ZPM right here on Earth, in the United States. The problem was they knew where it was two years ago but not presently. So with Rodney's help in tweaking the time-travelling jumper they had in storage at Area 51 they had managed to come back a few years to get it.

Sheppard had taken his team and Lorne's along for the mission but when he'd learned of the exact date they were going to, had added a small mission of his own. His team and Lorne were the only ones who knew what he was about to do. He knew if Carter was aware, she would be screaming all sorts of dire warnings about the timeline continuum and changing history.

But John was willing to take that chance. He looked again at the door in front of him and thought about the date. It was the day before his father had his heart attack. The heart attack that had ended his life leaving John filled with regret for the way they had left things the last time they'd seen each other. He knew he couldn't tell his father anything that would keep him alive but his father had died thinking John hated him and the pain that ripped through his gut every time he thought of that was what made John decide to take the risk to see him.

He took a deep breath as he raised his hand to knock on the large wooden door then stared at his feet and scrubbed a hand through his hair. He wasn't even sure if his father would let him in.

.

Patrick Sheppard heard the knock on the door and a scowl crossed his face. Who the heck had the nerve to disturb him at this time of night? Sure he wasn't asleep and most people would know that but if it was so important that they needed to see him, a phone call would have been a polite option first.

He opened the door fully intending to give this person a piece of his mind but when his eyes landed on the man standing there, his mouth just hung open. The man was looking at his feet and running his hand through his hair but Patrick would recognize those cowlicks anywhere. They'd frustrated him for far too many years not to know them when he saw them.

"John!" His youngest son looked up and Patrick actually flashed back to a time when John was about ten and had broken his mother's favorite lamp. His eyes had been filled with fear when he'd had to fess up to the crime. And Patrick saw fear in those eyes right now. He hated the thought that he could be the reason for that fear

John saw his father standing in the doorway and his heart beat quicker and he felt a full scale assault going on in his stomach. He attempted a smile but he knew it was probably a bit crooked. "Hi Dad."

Patrick shook his head and stammered, "What are you…? I wasn't expecting …"

John knew it was a surprise for his father and quickly apologized. "I'm sorry I didn't call before I came but I wasn't sure if I'd be able to get here." He looked down at his black BDU's and his gun still strapped to his thigh. "I'm kind of in the middle of an op right now. I was able to finagle a little time and was hoping you'd see me."

Patrick took in the weapons and obvious military garb then realized what John had said. "Of course I'd see you. You're my son. Do you have time to come in?"

Patrick stood back and John nodded as he walked in behind his father and closed the door. They didn't go far, just a few steps into the hallway then to the right into the living room.

"Are you thirsty, hungry?" Patrick asked as he moved to the wet bar in the corner. "I can get you something." He wasn't really sure what to say to his son. It had been a while since they'd last spoken and truthfully that time had been filled with hateful words that he had long ago wished he'd never said.

"I'm fine, Dad, really," John assured him. "I'm not sure how long I have. I've got a few teams monitoring the situation but if things start happening, I may need to leave quickly."

"And what situation would that be?" Patrick questioned curiously wondering if John would actually divulge any information.

John just grinned. "You know I can't answer that, Dad. I'm sorry."

"But you're stationed in the States again, huh? When did that happen?" And he wondered why John hadn't contacted him until now. Although reliving that last fight, maybe he knew.

"I'm not actually," John denied. "It's just that this situation is extremely … tricky and there aren't too many people with the knowledge and skills to make the mission successful." John thought of the jumper and the fact that very few people could actually get it to fly, never mind go through time to an exact date. But John's ATA gene, and his six years of using Ancient equipment, gave him an advantage over just about everyone.

"But I've got my team and another watching over the situation and keeping tabs on our goal. Right now it's just a waiting game which is why I figured I'd try and stop by."

"So this … situation is happening nearby?" Patrick surmised.

"Not really, no," John shook his head. "But we have some … transport that can get us there quick enough."

Patrick knew his son wouldn't give out any more information so he took a deep breath and asked the question he really wanted to know.

"So, why are you here, John? Do you need some money or help with something?"

John sighed and turned away to look out the front window but not before Patrick saw the look of hurt on his son's face. He regretted right away that he had asked but it seemed it was always what people wanted from him.

John rotated back to confront his father and his face was fully composed again except now his jaw was a bit more rigid than it had been before. "No, Dad, I don't need money or any help from you. Maybe I shouldn't have come."

He closed his eyes briefly and started moving back to the opening of the room. But John knew this was the only chance he would ever have of talking to his Dad. In his timeline, his father was dead. And in this timeline he _would_ be tomorrow. It was _now _or forever live with that regret. He stopped short of the doorway, gave a huge sigh then faced his father again.

"I just wanted to … talk to you and say a few things that I probably should have said a few years ago."

"Okay," Patrick said and indicated the couch. "Why don't you have a seat and be comfortable."

John looked at the couch and the other chairs in the room and moved back over to stand near the window. "I'm good right here. I've been sitting for a while."

"You never could sit still for long, John. It used to drive your mother and me crazy, especially when we were in church or out some place fancy."

John just smiled and knew he needed to get down to business. He didn't know when he'd be called to do his job. The real reason they'd been allowed to travel back in time.

"Dad," John started and swallowed hard, not sure he could actually say what he had to say. It had never been easy talking to his father and his stomach was doing flips. Then he remembered what was going to happen tomorrow and how he'd felt when Sam had told him and cleared his throat.

"I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry."

Patrick's eyes opened wide and then grew curious but he kept quiet. His son very seldom said that and certainly not to his father since he'd been a grown man.

John rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry for quite a few things actually. First, … I'm sorry I couldn't be who you wanted me to be. I know you wanted me to go into the family business with you and Dave but that's not who I am and I'd be miserable in that kind of life. And I'm sorry I wasn't willing to change to please you." He gave a slight chuckle and continued, "Not that I'm willing to change now, either."

Patrick remained quiet and John wondered at how much his _father _had changed. Usually at this point in the conversation his father would be yelling at him that if he truly cared for him he'd do what he wanted and not disappoint him and the whole family. But he wasn't. He was standing across the room listening to his son.

"The second thing I'm sorry for," John went on, "is that I was a complete screw up in so many ways. I know you wanted to be proud of me for something and I never seemed to quite provide you with that opportunity."

At this, Patrick did start to speak. John wondered how bad it would be and he braced himself for what was to come.

"John," Patrick interrupted, "do I need to remind you that you've made it to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel and you're still a few years shy of forty. That's a pretty amazing fete if I do say so myself."

John's heart skipped a few beats when he realized his father had actually given him a compliment. He wanted to add that he was now a full Colonel but since it had only happened after his little suicide run to the hive ship and that wouldn't happen for another few years, he held back.

His father had paused but began again, "I'm not sure exactly what it is that you do but I'm guessing it must be pretty important and you must be fairly successful with it to keep getting promoted. I would assume it's not just flying choppers around. "

"So, you're okay with my being in the military now?" John asked incredulously.

"No, John, I'm not," Patrick answered truthfully but held up his hand when he saw John about to say something. "When you were younger I didn't want you to join the military because I thought it was beneath you, beneath a Sheppard to actually be a servant to this country. I wanted you making a difference in our company not flying people around like a taxi driver. But as you climbed the ranks I began to realize that maybe you were good at what you did. But then that makes me nervous because I know that what you do is probably very dangerous."

Patrick took a few steps closer to his son and caught his eye. "I guess I'm afraid of losing you, John. It almost killed me when I lost your mother and I didn't want that to happen again."

John's eyes narrowed and his face showed pain. "How is it any different when we don't see each other or speak to each other for over five years? I felt like I lost you all those years ago."

Patrick nodded. "And now it's my turn for the apology. I can't tell you how much I regret that last fight. I know I said some pretty nasty things and I can tell you right now I didn't really mean them. I was scared, John, scared that you would go off and get yourself killed in some foreign country fighting for some strangers that we don't even know. I still don't like what you do but I guess I need to accept that it's what you _want_ to do."

John was floored and blinked a few times to make sure that it was indeed Patrick Sheppard standing in front of him. Maybe they'd gone to another reality instead of back in time in this one. Or maybe like Dave had said at the funeral; their Dad had regretted what happened right up to the end. Which was tomorrow, John had to remind himself as pain lanced through his gut again. And he really hated that he didn't have more time to connect with his Dad, like he and Dave had connected after the funeral.

But he _had_ right now and he had to make the most of it. John moved over to where his father had gone to sit in one of the side chairs and sat on the coffee table in front of him. He knew his Mom would have had a fit if she had seen him and he gave a sad smile at how much he missed her.

"Dad," John began as he leaned over and rested his forearms on his thighs, his hands clenching nervously in front of him. "I wanted to thank you, too. You were pretty tough on me and Dave and I never appreciated it at the time. You always said you did it to make us stronger and I realize now that you were right to do it. It did make me stronger and I can tell you that saved my life a few times; got me through a few things that I might not have survived otherwise."

Patrick's eyes narrowed at John's words, trying to decipher what they meant. _Saved his life, might not have survived, _when he thought of those phrases and what John did, only one thing came to mind, and the thought sickened him more than he thought anything else could.

He looked his son in the eye and candidly asked, "John, are talking about torture?" His eyes turned horrified the more he thought about it. "Have you been tortured before?"

John closed his eyes for a second then stood up quickly and walked back to gaze out the darkened window, seeing nothing but his past. How did you give an answer like that to your father? He thought of Torren and wondered what it would be like if Torren said that to him as an adult. He knew the boy wasn't his child but John had been helping Teyla take care of him since he was born, especially since they'd returned to Earth. Kanaan had stayed behind in the Pegasus Galaxy but Teyla could not bear to be without her son so had brought him. How would John feel if Torren told him he'd been tortured?

But he still needed to answer the question. "I'm fine, Dad," John avoided the actual question. "You don't need to worry about me. You made me tough and I really appreciate that now although I know I never did when I was growing up. Thank you."

Patrick gazed at his son's back and could tell by the stiff set of his shoulders that he was troubled by something; probably the memories that he'd just brought up. He knew he shouldn't, but his next thoughts just flew out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"You know, John, if you worked for the company business, you wouldn't have to endure things like torture."

John gave an almost strangled laugh, knowing that the conversation would somehow come to this. His first instinct was to turn around and start yelling at his Dad to back off and let him be who he was, that he wanted nothing to do with the family business. But that nagging reminder of what would happen tomorrow kept stabbing back at him, curbing his temper.

He did turn around but pasted a wry smile on his face as he countered, "I don't know, Dad, some of those Board Meetings could definitely be classified as torture. I think I'd rather take a good old fashioned beating any day."

A similar wry smile grew on Patrick's face as well. "I'd have to agree with you there regarding some Board Meetings I've been to."

"I get enough of that in my position," John pointed out. "I'm already inundated with too many briefings, status reports, mission logs and budgets. And those are just the things I need to do for me. Then I need to read and sign off on everyone else's reports and budgets and mission logs."

Patrick's ears perked up when he heard how much administrative work his son did. Maybe he wasn't just a flyboy. Apparently with his promotions had come new responsibilities. He decided to see if he could get any information on that.

"Sounds like you do an awful lot of paperwork. I take it you're not just a pilot anymore. You have a command position, oversee some troops?"

John took a few steps away from the window and a small grin spread across his face. "You could say that. Actually, Dad, I'm the Military Commander of the base."

Patrick's eyes widened and he felt a burst of pride run through his body. "The Military Commander? What size base are we talking about?"

John thought about the city of Atlantis and knew he couldn't actually tell his father about that so he stuck with numbers, hoping just that information would impress him. The little boy inside of him still wanted his father's approval and the man tried to present the information that would give him that.

"The base isn't solely a Military base, it's an expedition that's a collaboration between many different countries. We have a huge medical facility and a large contingent of scientists, as well. But I've got about two hundred troops and we oversee the safety of the base and its occupants as well as run other missions outside the base."

"And you're in charge of all these people?" Patrick asked and John thought he sounded impressed.

"I'm in charge of the Military. We have an expedition leader that I report to but I'm second in command and I have absolute control over anything that has to do with the safety of the base and its people. That's where all that paperwork comes in."

John made a face at the statement about paperwork. He'd thrown in it because he felt like he was tooting his own horn there for a second and he didn't like it. It wasn't what he usually did. But this was his father who had never approved of anything he'd done and that little part inside him really wanted his dad to approve of him, if even just a little bit.

A smile lit up Patrick's face as he thought of all the people looking up to John and taking orders and being respectful to their leader. If only his son had used that leadership ability at home. His instinct was to say that out loud but he held his tongue again. He knew it had taken a lot of strength and courage for John to come home after the way he'd been treated last time. He didn't want to do anything that would send him away again. Who knew if he would ever come back. And the thought of not seeing John again brought a sharp pain to his chest. He hadn't realized how much he'd truly missed his son until he'd seen him standing in the doorway looking like a lost little boy.

"I'm proud of you, John," Patrick finally managed. "I always knew you had it in you to be a great leader. I always wished you'd come home and do it here but I know that's not what you wanted. I've come to realize that I can't live my sons' lives for them no matter how much I want them to be like me."

"Well, you got that, Dad," John smirked. "I'm just as stubborn as you are, there's no doubt."

Patrick gave a small laugh and smiled at his son. It had been far too long since he'd been able to do that and he found he liked it. But that stubbornness reared its head again and he asked another question.

"So, you're not in Afghanistan or Antarctica anymore but can you tell me where you have been stationed?"

John shook his head and his father continued with a smirk, "Can you tell me if you're still in the A's or have you moved on to the B's?"

John grinned, thinking of Atlantis and replied, "Nope, still in the A's, although that's all you're going to get from me. I'm sorry, Dad, I really can't say much." But John wondered if he _could _tell his Dad some things. The man was going to die tomorrow, who would he tell? But John kept his mouth closed and knew he couldn't disclose too much. He'd probably already said more than he should.

"So, you said there were medical and scientific personnel on this base," Patrick looked at his son wondering more than he knew he would get from him. "Is there anyone there who's caught your eye? Unless you've still got a thing for Nancy."

"You know I loved Nancy, Dad, but I never made her happy. She couldn't live with the secrets and the long missions away. She wanted me to be a nine-to-five businessman just like you. It's not who I am."

Patrick just nodded his head thinking of the beautiful, lovely woman John had married and let get away. But again he knew he needed to stop blaming John for everything that had happened. Nancy had known what John was when they had gotten married so it shouldn't have been any surprise when he spent more time away from home than there. But maybe he could still find someone who would understand him.

"So is there anyone on base that interests you?" Patrick asked again. He looked at John who was almost blushing and a tiny smile had crept onto his face. "Who is she? Medical or scientist?"

"Neither," John admitted. "She's actually local and does a lot of liaison stuff between our people and the natives. She's a great negotiator and diplomat but she can kick ass when she needs to. She's a pretty amazing woman."

"And you two are in a relationship?"

"Well," John waffled a bit, "things are a bit complicated right now. We've been best of friends for years now but I made the mistake of not really making my intentions known. I'm trying to fix that."

"And how does she feel about you?"

John rolled his eyes up and replied, "That's a good question. I don't really know the answer."

Patrick looked at his son and was about to tell him to make his move on the woman when he saw him pause and touch his ear. He'd noticed he had a small earpiece but hadn't asked what it was for. Now he realized it must be a radio.

"What's our status?" John spoke into his comm as Teyla told him of the mission details. "You're back already? Okay, come on in the front door and show me what we've got so far."

Patrick heard the front door open and John walked toward it and called out, "In here, Teyla."

A golden skinned woman with russet hair tied in a ponytail walked in and approached John, handing him what looked like a small computer screen. John took the piece of equipment and started touching the screen as the woman said, "Major Lorne's team have the perimeter secured and will let us know if there is any movement. They will keep the area contained if need be."

John finished perusing the information then handed the device back to the woman. Patrick took a step closer and held out his hand.

"Hi, I'm Patrick Sheppard."

The woman took his hand and gave it a firm squeeze. "I am Teyla Emmagen. It is an honor to meet you, Mr. Sheppard. You must know that your son is a respected leader among his people and has earned the respect of mine as well."

Patrick looked at John and saw that he appeared uncomfortable. But then he knew John was always uncomfortable when people complimented him.

"You aren't Military then?" Patrick probed.

"No, but I have worked with John for many years and feel privileged to have learned so much from him."

John rolled his eyes and moved toward the door. "Don't believe her. She could teach you things you've never known."

He walked with Teyla to the outer door and instructed, "Let me know as soon as the target makes a move. I shouldn't be much longer."

Teyla nodded then lifted her hand to touch John's cheek. "Are you all right, John? I have been concerned for you. I know this cannot have been easy for you."

John reached up and covered her hand with his. "Thanks, Teyla. I know I can always count on you to watch my back regardless of the reason. But I'm fine, really. It's going much better than I expected. I'll be out shortly."

Teyla smiled sweetly and told him, "Take your time, John. The situation is under control for now."

John just nodded and watched her walk out the door. He moved back to the living room where his father was standing with a smug grin on his face.

"She's lovely, John. And I'd say you have no problem with her feelings. I'm thinking she's in love with you, too."

John's eyes looked around the room surprised. "What? How?"

"How did I know she was the one you were talking about earlier?" Patrick chuckled. "The way you were looking at her was a dead giveaway. And the gentle touch on the side of your face, I could see you in the hall mirror, yeah, she cares for you deeply. You put in a bit of effort, John, and I don't think you'll get any resistance from her."

John just shrugged and nodded his head. "It's still complicated but thanks, I'll remember what you said."

John looked out the window again and Patrick knew he probably needed to go. He really didn't want him to. He didn't know how long it would be before he saw him again, if ever.

"So this operation you've got going on is helping keep this country safer, I take it."

John looked completely at his father and decided to take a small chance. "Actually, Dad, what I do … what I've _been_ doing for the last few years, goes beyond our borders. It's not just for the protection of the people of this country but the protection of everyone on this planet."

Patrick looked at him like he'd grown two heads so John continued, "I know it sounds a bit out there, but there are things bigger than you could ever have imagined and this world is just a small part of it. I can't really say any more but I wanted to let you know that what I do is important, Dad. It's one of the reasons I can't just give it up and pop home on occasion."

Patrick wasn't sure what John was telling him but he knew he might also never find out exactly what it was he did. That was the frustrating thing. He saw John tense up again and touch his earpiece and nod his head.

"I'm on my way," John said to whoever was on the other end then looked up at his father. He took a few steps until he was standing right in front of him.

"I've gotta go, Dad. Thanks for letting me in. I'm really glad I got a chance to see you again. You don't know how much that means to me. I really hated how we left things last time."

Patrick nodded. "I'm glad you stopped in, too. I wish your brother was here but he won't be back from his business trip until tomorrow morning. He'll be interested to hear that you came by."

John's eyes flew open when he realized that Dave couldn't know he'd been here. That could definitely change a whole lot of crap.

"Um, don't tell Dave yet that I was here, okay," John pleaded gently. "I'd like to come back and see him myself. I should be able to get here in a few days and I'll see him then." John knew it was true but unfortunately when he saw Dave it would be at their father's wake. The pain grew deeper and stronger inside him at what he knew was coming but could not stop.

"There's one more thing I really wanted to let you know, Dad," John choked out not sure he could get the words past the lump in his throat but knowing he had to. "Regardless of all our fights and time away from each other, I love you, Dad, and I never wanted you to think otherwise."

John blinked his eyes a few times, feeling treacherous moisture start to form the more he thought about leaving his father here to die and doing nothing about it.

Patrick stared back at his son and wondered about the sudden emotion he saw in John's face. Did John think he wasn't coming back from this mission? Was it that dangerous that there was a chance he wouldn't survive? Is that why he came to see him? To say a last goodbye?

He felt some dampness come into his own eyes and pushed it back in his usual manner. But he reached for his son and embraced him. John stiffened at the touch and Patrick knew it was an unusual gesture for them. But if he never saw his son again he didn't want to remember him just walking out the door. He wanted to feel the strength of his love.

Surprisingly, Patrick felt John lean into his embrace and pull him in tight for a few seconds then release him. Patrick looked up and made sure he let John know his feelings were returned. "I love you, too, John. Make sure you come home again soon. We have a lot of time to make up for."

John just squeezed his father's arm and nodded then walked out the door. Patrick heard the front door close and looked out the front window to see where John was going. He hadn't heard any vehicle, flying or otherwise and wondered how he was getting to his mission. He saw him briefly walk away from the house but then he was swallowed up by the darkness. He saw a few trees sway in the breeze but then nothing else stirred.

He moved back to the couch and sat down, feeling that twinge in his chest again. He'd had it for a few days and had planned on getting it checked but work kept getting in the way. Well there was always next week. But today he was going to enjoy the fact that his son had come home and they hadn't blown up or screamed at each other. They'd actually put some really big emotions out on the table and Patrick Sheppard couldn't have been happier about that.

.

The back of the jumper closed and Ronon, Rodney and Teyla all stared at him curiously.

"I'm fine. Let's just stick to business, okay?" John growled not wanting to get into anything more emotional than he'd just had to deal with. He sat in the co-pilots chair next to Lorne and ordered, "Okay, Major, let's go do this."

As they took off into the sky, John took one last look down at the house. He wanted to go back down and drag his Dad to the hospital now but knew that could have disastrous results. He was pretty sure he hadn't changed any time line with what he'd done. According to what Dave had told him after the funeral, his Dad would be home all day and be stricken at dinnertime when Dave was there.

He wished he could go back and spend more time with him but thinking back to how he felt at the wake, that his Dad had died hating him and thinking he had hated his Dad, he now knew that today's actions had helped him immensely with the large stack of guilt he always carried around with him.

He now had one less regret.

.

.


End file.
